


What Happened to the Rest of Them?

by tothinktwice



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: ALL OF THE ACTUAL SUPERHEROS ARE ONLY MENTIONED SORRY, Apocalypse, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm new at this sorry, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), after the snappening, i couldnt find their mentioned tags, no beta sorry broskis, nobodys going to find this story, rated t for swearing ope, what am i even supposed to put here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 07:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19421554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothinktwice/pseuds/tothinktwice
Summary: After Thanos snapped his fingers, Tony Stark was left clutching Peter Parker on an abandoned planet.  Steve Rogers was sitting next to a dead android in Africa, wondering where they went wrong.But what about everyone else?  What about the kids sitting in Health class?What happened to them?





	What Happened to the Rest of Them?

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a little idea that's been floating around in my head since Infinity War came out, and now I finally have the courage to post it. Basically it's a little short about what was going on with the common folk while the snappening was a'happening. Anyone else could have executed this idea much better but oh well. Hope everyone enjoys!  
> (Also I originally wrote this as a screenplay so some of the emotions and ideas were "lost in translation")

A voice interrupted the low drone of the news.

“You better hurry up or you’ll be late for school.”

Quinn jumped and spun around in her chair. She hadn’t noticed her mom sneak up behind her. But there she was: arms crossed, brows furrowed, and lips pursed in her classic “you’re-doing-something-wrong” expression.

Quinn set down her spoon harder than she intended to. The clang echoed throughout the kitchen. Quinn let go of the spoon as if it was burning. Her fist moved up and down involuntarily to let out the nervous energy her action had spawned. She swallowed.

“I don’t understand why I even _have_ to go to school, though. Literally nobody’s gonna be there.”

“You don’t know that,” her mom chided.

“But I _do_ though. A literal _alien spaceship_ attacked New York. They took _Iron Man._ And now they’re back for more. Everyone’s afraid they’re gonna _die._ And you don’t even have to go to work anyway! I can _guarantee_ that nobody’s gonna be at school.” Her fists were curling. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Her mom noticed. She uncrossed her arms and her voice and eyes softened. “I’m sorry Quinn, but you can’t change the fact that you’re going. School’s not closed, and whatever’s out there is getting farther away from Chicago anyway.” She sighed. “Besides, you’re no safer here than you are at school. And you need something to take your mind off everything. _Please_ don’t argue with me.”

Quinn pressed her lips together. She blew as much air as she could through her noise and abruptly left her chair.

“ _Fine._ OK. But don’t act surprised when you have to come and pick me up.” She stomped out of the kitchen, making sure to amplify the sound of each step. After she left, her mom fell onto the chair she had just rose from. She put her head in her hands and let the sound of the TV wash over her.

“ _-and what exactly it means for humanity as a whole? Are we ready for a threat like this? Are the_ Avengers?”

* * *

Quinn stepped out onto the sidewalk outside her apartment building. She had gum in her mouth, and blew a massive bubble to make sure everyone around her knew it. It popped, covering her nose with a bright pink film. She picked it off as she began to walk to school, landing each step to the beat of her song. She was too focused on her gum and music to notice the quickened steps and nervous expressions of everyone walking past her. Even if she did see them, though, she wouldn’t be nervous. She wasn’t even nervous in the first place. She was only acting like it because she didn’t want to go to school. Obviously.

Three songs later, she entered H.C. High’s campus. She saw other students walking in too. Her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit and her breathing came a little easier. She knew she wouldn’t be completely alone today, but a little “ _what if…”_ had wormed itself into her head anyway. She was glad to squash it. But even though many kids were _at_ school, it was easy to see that the atmosphere of the building wasn’t usual for a Friday. The regular din that came as a side effect of a thousand kids talking to each other was all but absent. Students were walking in small groups. They were whispering to each other and staring at the news on their phones. Hands were silently flicking, fidgeting with each other, and squeezing backpack straps. Nobody was meandering in the hallways. 

Quinn grabbed her books and entered her English classroom right as the bell rang. The teachers had all been called to a meeting, so fortunately she had a little time to situate herself before class started. She slid into her usual desk. A tall and skinny girl with light brown eyes and a yellow scarf wrapped around her hair sat in the next desk over. Her name was Zaara, and she was leaning back in her desk, twirling her pencil nonchalantly through her fingers.

“So your mom made you come, huh?” she drawled.

“ _OK_ , but not for lack of trying though,” grumbled Quinn.

“You still owe me, like, twenty bucks. You _swore_ to me you’d get her to let you stay home this morning.”

Quinn looked in her backpack. “How about a quarter?”

Zaara concealed her smile with a scowl and an eye roll. “That’s _fine,_ I guess.”

Quinn pressed the quarter into Zaara’s hand and scoffed. “I wish I could send her a picture of what the class looks like, though.”

Zaara nodded. “I know. I mean, my parents would make me go if there was a _literal_ tornado, but still.”

There were only 14 kids compared to the usual 27 in the class. Most of them were shifting between eyeing the door and the window.

Quinn swallowed. “It _does_ make sense though. Like with the aliens and everything. It’s scary. I don’t wanna be here I don’t wanna get-abducted or anything, you know?”

“I don't care that much,” Zaara said. “The Avengers’ll stop it. Exactly like they’ve done _every other time._ You need to chill Quinn.”

“But one of them’s _gone_ now. They took _Iron Man._ ” Quinn said.

“And?” asked Zaara. “There’s still others, like-” a dopy smile filled her face. “ _Captain America.”_

Quinn rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ you’re literally the worst.”

Zaara opened her mouth to retaliate, but was stopped when Mrs. Spencer, their English teacher, entered the room.

“OK guys,” she squeaked. Her voice was usually annoyingly high, but today it was even worse. “Uhh, let’s take attendance, and cou- um, could you all please take out your, uh, your workshop sheets please?”

Quinn leaned over to Zaara. “Were they _actually_ told to not address the threat of impending doom hovering over our planet or….”

Zaara snorted. “I mean of course. If they mentioned it, we’d get _freaked out_ bro. Can’t have that.”

Quinn laughed a little and put her head in her hands. If anything could suck the intensity out of an alien invasion, it would be school.

First hour melted into second, and then to third. Third hour was thankfully was a little more interesting than the first two. Quinn’s health teacher, Mr. T, was teaching her class about the dangers of STDs. The perfect way to spice up a morning.

“Now, the good thing about chlamydia-stop _laughing_ guys this is actually important, ‘cause I bet one of you will end up getting it-is that- _STOP. LAUGHING-"_

Quinn turned to Zaara, who she (thankfully) shared her first, third, and seventh hour classes with.

“Shit man he might be talking about me ‘cuz my coochie’s been itching a lot recently. I’m gettin’ a little nervous.” She muttered, biting down on her lips to keep from laughing.

Zaara began to laugh too, but then her face twisted up into a very different expression. Her nose started to twitch. Quinn felt color start to fill her cheeks. She knew a lot of her jokes didn’t land well, but usually Zaara thought they were funny. She licked her lips and began damage control.

“Hey man, I-I’m sorry I said that, I didn’t mean to for it to sound like I was-” she started.

But Zaara clearly didn’t care. “No, It’s not you,” she said. She was using her normal speaking voice instead of a whisper. Quinn noticed the whole class staring at them. “No, it’s actually my-” she held her arm up and stopped.

Because instead of an arm, all she had was a stump ending right above her elbow. The rest of it was nothing but a cloud of ash. The ash (whatever _the ash_ was) rapidly climbed up her body. She tried to scream, but was cut off when the ash swallowed her head, floating innocently above her chair. Quinn stared at the spot her friend had just vanished from with wide eyes. The rest of the class looked on in similar shocked silence. It couldn’t even be broken by a loud thump and screaming from the classroom above them. Then, it was shattered by a high-pitched yell.

“ _WHAT THE FUCK?”_ a girl squawked. Then, she was replaced by a cloud of ash.

The girl’s friend desperately swiped at her ashes, only to realize her own body was succumbing to the same fate. A boy tried to leave the classroom, but his arms disappeared before he reached the doorknob. He screamed, and was gone. Another boy sat with his head in his hands, dissolving silently. Someone hooked their arms around their desk, trying to stay anchored to Earth. But it wasn’t enough, and they faded away. Quinn continued to stare at Zaara’s seat, aimlessly reaching out at the mostly settled ashes.

_“_ EVERYBODY, CAN YOU _PLEASE_ CALM DOWN?” Mr. T bellowed. But then, all 300 pounds of him crashed to the floor, causing all of the desks and chairs in the room to vibrate.

His legs were gone. The rest of his body soon followed.

The class lost all structure. The remaining 7 or so members started sprinting for the door. One kid disappeared right as he left the room. Quinn jerked out of her seat, grabbed her backpack, and followed. She couldn’t stay here-people were _dying_ in here. She entered the hallway and was swept towards the exit by a hoard of screaming students. She stumbled more than ran, and if it weren’t for the solid wall of people pushing her forward, she would be completely stationary. She looked to the left and saw a boy on the floor, hands over his head, getting stepped on by everyone else. She could hear a voice on the intercom, but it was garbled, and nobody was attempting to follow its instructions anyway.

The boy right in front of her was eaten by the ashes, and she tripped, choking on him. An arm hooked itself through her elbow and forced her back up. She looked to thank its owner, but in the midst of the pandemonium, one couldn't be found. Finally, the crowd turned and exited the building, fanning out across the front of the campus. Cars were peeling out of the parking lot. Other students were running out of the campus and through the city streets. Quinn turned around, looking for some sense of calm in the middle of everything. Her eyes locked onto a girl pushing against the wall of kids leaving; trying to _enter_ the building. She was sobbing.

“Please!” she cried. “My parents-I need-my _phone’s_ in there. My mom and dad- _please!”_

But her cries were in vain, and she was knocked aside, curling into a ball in the grass outside the school. Quinn’s brain lit up. Her breath stopped for a beat.

_“Mom”_ she mouthed. Her eyes hardened, loose their vacancy. She had a purpose now. She started to run, leaving the building behind. A teacher held her hand out to stop her.

“Honey can you _please_ go back to the gym with-” she started, but Quinn pushed her hand away and kept going. She reached into her backpack, rummaging inside it as she ran. She exited the campus right as she found what she was looking for: her phone. She pulled it out, ripping the ear buds off and throwing them onto the sidewalk. She barreled into people standing in silent shock on the street as she frantically typed her mom’s number into the “emergency call” screen.

_(No time to unlock the phone. Had to call her_ now _)._

The phone began to dial and she jammed it to her ear. Then, her foot hit heavy cloth and she was looking at shoes instead of faces. Her own face was stinging, along with her left arm. Her phone was a few feet away from her hand, case scratched by the sidewalk. She reached for it, cringing when her fingernails scraped sidewalk instead. But then, she got her hand around it and she was up again, shaking the cloth _(a coat maybe? Who cares?)_ off of her foot. Her knees hurt. Her head was pulsing. There was blood and gravel stuck in the new cracks in her phone screen. But she pressed it against her ear again and continued to run.

It stopped dialing.

_“Hello, you’ve reached Michelle King. Unfortunately, I can’t answer the phone right now, so leave a-_ ”

Quinn turned off the phone and groaned, running a hand through her damp and stringy hair. She climbed over the hood of a car that had careened into a building _(that wasn’t right, was it?)_ and kept going. She found herself climbing the stairs into her apartment building within seconds _(but it had taken_ hours _to get there, hadn’t it?)_ and slammed the door behind her.

She spat blood out of her mouth and relaxed against the door, breathing heavily. The car horns and shouting outside were muffled. Then, a loud _BOOM_ rocked the building, and the yelling got louder again. Quinn opened the door a crack and looked outside. A gaping hole, ringed with fire, was stuck in the middle of a nearby building. A plane-a _commercial plane-_ had crashed into it. Quinn flung the door shut again with a gasp and started running. She paused outside the elevator, shook her head _(can't get stuck, can't get stuck)_ , and ran for the stairs. Once she reached the right floor she ran flat out down the hallway. She skidded to a halt a couple doors outside her apartment. Doubling back, she dug through her backpack, breathing fast and labored. She pulled out her keys and jammed them towards the lock once-twice-three times before they slid in. She was already pushing against the door as she turned the key, causing it to open abruptly. She fell into the house, but quickly scrambled up again and shedded her backpack, leaving the keys in the lock.

_“MOM?”_ she shouted. No answer. She ran into the kitchen.

_“MOM?”_ Nothing. Bedroom?

Nothing. Bathroom?

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. _Nothing._

She ended up in the living room. The TV had been disconnected, and rainbow stripes were covering the screen. It was beeping and the sound gave Quinn a headache. She took out her phone, numb fingers fumbling over the fractured screen.

“C-call her again. I’ll-I’ll um, I’ll call-I’ll call her again,” she mumbled through her heavy tongue and rough breaths. Her heart was going to leave her chest. Her stomach was going to leave her abdomen. Her brain was going to explode. But first, she was going to punch in her mom’s number. She licked her bloodstained lips and held the phone to her ear. Again.

Nothing, and then-

A buzz punctured the TV’s whine. A ring tone. Quinn stared dumbly at the source of it.

Her mom’s phone was almost hidden between two cushions of the couch, and was surrounded by large flakes of ash.

Quinn’s body shut down, all tension leaving it like a deflating balloon. Her phone fell from her suddenly slack fingers, dropping onto the carpet with a soft _thunk_. She stumbled over to the other phone, landing wearily on the couch. She picked it up and answered the call. She heard tinny breaths coming from the carpet across the room.

_“Oh my god,_ ” she whispered. Her phone echoed the words back at her. Her face, covered in blood and soot, was now being cleaned with tears, sliding thickly down her face. She sat on the remains of her mother, bowed over the phone, and a sob escaped her throat. Her brain was stuffed with cotton. She couldn't think. So instead, she waited.

She waited to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism is very much appreciated, but please try not to make me cry lol :). If people like this I might do a follow-up to Quinn's story or write something about another person in a different situation, but I doubt anything like that's going to happen. Only time will tell, though :). Once again, thank you!!


End file.
